Strangers in the Night
by Valeska Vampire Queen
Summary: At nine years old Anna Valerious is a headstrong girl barred from partaking in her family's war. She believes this to be her fate until one day she is taken from her family to the vampires' lair, a child left at the mercy of her greatest enemies.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, new story up which I hope everyone likes; another based on Anna Valerious' childhood. **

**A wilful, headstrong nine year old girl growing up in a family fighting a war but forbidden to partake in it because of her sex. Destined only to grow up and marry well for her family, everything changes for Anna when one night she is separated from her family and taken to the vampires' lair, a child left at the mercy of the Valerious' greatest enemies.**

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The clashing of swords echoed back to them a long way from the training ground. Darting ahead, Anna managed to reach its edge first. She gave a quick glance behind her and seeing her nurse was no longer in sight she scrambled up the fence to see better. A jolt tore through her stomach at what she saw; her brother, out of his sturdy play-clothes and in a new riding suit, his face grim with concentration as he lifted his blade to parry their father's blow. The sword was merely a child's short sabre; half the size of her father's, however, with the weapon in his hand he had completely changed from the boy who only last week had joined her in their games of being knights and slayers with their wooden toy foils. Already he looked well on the way to becoming the soldier that her father had promised to make him.

"Anna! What have I told you!"

Anna climbed down from the fence with a sigh; her nurse had finally caught up with her and was waddling up the last of the path.

"Not to wander out of sight!" her nurse finished when her charge did not answer her, reinforcing her sentiments with a sharp slap between her shoulder blades. Anna winced but did not cry out, her eyes wandering back to her brother while her nurse delivered a cursory lecture on making sure to mind her – didn't she realise, ungrateful child that she was, what would happen to her, or to the town of Vaseria, if the werewolves, of which the forest was chock-full, or worse the vampires were to come upon her? Anna gave an absent nod when a pause in her nurse's lecture demanded it, her attention held again by the events on the training-ground.

In truth Petronela; Anna's nurse for the last two years, had only a casual knowledge of the habits of the horrors that threatened their village – she did not seem to realise that the werewolves only hunted by moonlight and could not leave their master's lair unless he allowed it – and he was not even awake during the day and so could not order them out. Petronela's indignation had more to do with the fact that Anna had forced her to run up the path to catch up with her, something that the nurse with her heavyset figure found intensely difficult to do.

Inside the training-ground Boris Valerious' shouts of praise were just discernable from where she stood. His good eye – the other had been missing since a fight with a werewolf years ago and was neatly covered by a black eyepatch – glittered excitedly in a way it never did when he praised her.

Anna began to seethe inside at her nurse's words. Of course she knew how important it was for her to fight to defend her village, hadn't her father been telling her brother that as long as she could remember? Yet she, as a girl, was barred from learning to be a warrior, even though she was as strong as Velkan and usually beat him in their occasional scraps. It stung to see her brother coming in every night and being able to stow his weapons in the armoury where she was not allowed to go, it hurt to hear him chattering nineteen to the dozen at the dinner table about the day's exploits, and more still when he refused to join in their usual games – claiming he had grown too old for such pursuits.

A hand grasping her forearm firmly startled Anna from her thoughts as Petronela pulled her around to face her. "Anna! Have you been listening to a word I've said?"

"Yes, Nurse," she muttered.

"Good. Well you can have a few minutes here to watch but remember that we need to get back soon – Cook will need me in the kitchen."

_I'm sure she does,_ thought Anna, knowing perfectly well that Petronela was only going near the kitchens because Cristian from the butcher's would be along to deliver the meat later and everyone knew she was sweet on him. Anna and her nurse hadn't seen eye to eye since Boris had engaged her two years ago when his wife had died. He said then that he thought it better that Anna had some female companionship while she was young. So far Anna had worked out that 'female companionship' meant having someone drag you indoors from your games and force you to sit still and learn to sew or lace you into dresses that you hated whenever there was company in the house. She had complained countless times to her father about how she had grown up enough now not to need Petronela but her father had always laughed her off – ruffling her hair and telling her that she was not a lady quite yet. _But I don't want to be a lady_, Anna had thought, but she had held her tongue, knowing from experience that whenever she tried to air her grievances on the subject to anyone they would laugh and tell her she would like the idea in time.

Anna sighed and turned back to the training ground to watch her brother.

.:I:.

It was two days later when Anna asked her nurse to take her to the training grounds again. She was permitted to play unsupervised within the streets of Vaseria with the village children, but to leave the safety of the town she needed someone with her. She had hoped that since she had spent the afternoon fairly patiently helping Petronela with the mending it would have put her in a good enough mood for another short walk out to the fields, but it was all to no avail. Her nurse, it seemed, had made something of a conquest with Cristian and they had decided to meet in the tavern that evening. Therefore the woman had transferred her duties of giving Anna her dinner and putting her to bed to the chamber maid so she could slip out early.

Anna watched in silent indignation as her nurse readied herself for the evening's activities – putting out her best blouse and skirt for the occasion and calling in Elena, the chamber maid, to lace her into her corset. Anna had to suppress a snicker when she later saw Elena rubbing at red-striped fingers from the effort of tugging at Petronela's corset, and found herself wondering what on earth Cristian could see in her nurse that attracted him. With her pasty skin and puffed cheeks Anna thought that Petronela could easily be taken for a gigantic pudding. Scowling, she picked up her favourite book and curled up with it on the window-seat, watching as the late-afternoon sunshine started to fade.

The sight of her brother fighting properly had stayed with Anna since the day she had first gone up to the training-grounds to see him. He was usually too tired when he came in to do anything but eat and head up to bed. Boris laughed and said he would get used to the demands of the training, though so far he did not seem to be showing any signs of it. Anna had not managed to have a decent conversation with him for the past week. Lately even Boris himself seemed to have little time for her now; for when she ran to them wanting to hear tales of the day's exploits he would send his daughter back to Petronela and tell her not to trouble herself about things that were not her concern.

Anna tossed the book aside and took to staring disconsolately out of the window. The injustice of it all stung her – here she was, just as capable as her brother, yet as much as they both wanted to carry on the Valerious' task she was barred from it because of something that wasn't even her fault. She did not see that girls and boys were so different – why, she and Velkan had always played in the streets of Vaseria with both, and found the girls just as keen to play soldiers as the boys. True, later, some of them lost interest in their games and turned to clothes and housekeeping, but there were plenty who were as she was and had to be dragged inside to the housework. And now she was stuck inside and there wasn't even any work for her to do. Petronela had no right to keep her shut up in here just so she could see her beau. But – why then should she have to listen to her?

Anna felt a grin spread across her face as her mind was made up – with Petronela gone no-one would miss her if she went to see her brother. Moving as stealthily as she could – she had been practicing since Velkan had started his training – she snatched up her coat and slipped out onto the darkening landing. With all the family but her out and no guests in the house, the main staircase was deserted and she made her way down it with no-one seeing her. Her plan hiccupped when she approached the kitchen door and almost ran straight into Elena and Madelina, their housekeeper, heading into the kitchen. Elena was muttering darkly to the older woman, and Anna, crouched around the corner, thought she heard her nurse's name mentioned. She smirked, relishing the idea of Petronela in trouble. Anna had to watch carefully when she finally dared to sneak past the kitchen door, but when there was no-one looking she slipped past and out of the back door.

No voice called her back and a delicious knot of glee tightened in her stomach. Who cared what Petronela said, Anna was tired of her carelessness and distain. Tonight she was going to do what she wanted for once! Grinning, she began to skip along the road.

It took her ten minutes to clear the town, and seeing the open countryside put thoughts of her nurse out of her mind. Autumn had really set in these last few days and the path was now buried under a golden carpet of leaves. Running forward she kicked through them, scattering gusts of leaves across the path, just as she and Velkan had always done. They flew up around her and she laughed aloud; relishing her new-found freedom – God knew Petronela would have scolded her for that.

Then a twig broke to her left and Anna started out of her musings – her head snapping around to the side. The path was empty. Her heart began to pound, and for the first time since she had set out she began to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all. Her father had warned her before against leaving the town alone, but then again, he was not far away was he? A few more minutes of walking and she would no longer be on her own. Biting her lip, she took another look around her, but still could see no-one. Well, Velkan was out at this time, wasn't he? Well then, so could she. Anna stood up straighter and continued out along the path.

To Anna her brother had always seemed to be the brave one. He had comforted her during many a full moon since their mother died when she was frightened at the werewolf howls that echoed through the streets, and Petronela, uncaring, had been snoring in her chair. She had been able to slip out of her room and he would allow her to climb into his bed and sleep awhile beside him until the moon set and the werewolves left for Dracula's lair. And gradually, she had learned that while they were shut safely inside their homes there was nothing for them to fear, and had felt safe enough in her own bed to sleep without her face hidden in her brother's shoulder.

Yet for all of that it had been her who had dragged him away three months ago when the vampires had appeared in their manor. Usually their visits to the village were limited to one a month – Anna had glimpsed them before, but she had never known them to attack a crowded place – preferring to feed on those who had been caught out alone. But that night all three Brides and their master had appeared in the servant's hall. Pandemonium had broken loose as the vampires had grabbed whoever happened to be closest and sunk fangs into their necks. Anna and Velkan had just left after a game of hide and seek, and had crouched, terrified, behind the half-open door, too afraid to move or close it lest the vampires should sense their presence and sure that at any moment they would be seen. She had watched in horror as Dracula's dark-haired Bride caught the stable-boy's wrist as he tried to run and dragged him up against her. She could not forget the look on his face as the Bride finally succeeded in holding him still and bit him. He had slumped heavily into her arms after a few seconds, and she had pulled back and caressed his hair for a moment before letting him fall. The Brides had seemed excited by the carnage they were creating, whooping with delight at their victims' screams. Anna had dragged her face away from the door and tugged at her brother's arm, desperately trying to pull him away from the danger, but he seemed paralysed with fear and would not budge.

When none remained in the servants' hall but the corpses of those too slow to get away Dracula had turned to his Brides and embraced each of them in turn, murmuring to them soothingly. Anna was not sure but she thought she had caught the word 'children' somewhere in his speech. When finally he had finished speaking his Brides had made their way to the window and thrown themselves shrieking from its sill, and the Count had looked as though he were about to follow them. Anna's had dared to breathe again. He had given one last glance around the room, a smile playing about his lips as he surveyed the scene, but then he looked directly at the door she was hidden behind, caught her eyes and held them. Anna had been sure then that she had felt her heart stop, but she had set her jaw and given him her most stubborn stare, the one that even Petronela knew meant that nothing could shift her. The Count's smile had widened at that, and he had nodded once, then in one fluid movement he had clambered up onto the windowsill and thrown himself from it. After that Velkan had finally been able to move, and with her arm around his waist she had dragged him away.

The training grounds weren't far now. Anna would never have admitted it but this knowledge relieved her - since the twig had snapped she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that she was being watched, though the path was quiet and whenever she had paused to look around she had seen nothing. Yet her fingers were pricking, something the old women said was a sure sign that you were being observed, and although her father always told her not to listen to such tales, a little voice in her head was wondering if for once the women might have been right.

She looked back one last time. A couple of leaves detached themselves from a tree behind her and floated onto the path. And then Anna realised that it was too quiet. The usual noises – birdsong and scurrying creatures in the undergrowth – should have been present, and they weren't. An icy jolt went through her as she remembered something her father had said. _'Even the beasts of the woods and fields can sense them, little one',_ he had told her, _they go into hiding when they know there is a dark force at work, more deadly than anything else in the wild'. _

The wind had picked up, whistling in her ears, but as she turned on her heels towards home she realised that there was a different sound that resonated in its gusts; voices. She whirled back again; her father and Velkan and the rest of the men were coming round the corner of the path. When they saw her each and every one of them froze, a horrified expression on their faces. Her father recovered first and shouted something, but he was too far away for Anna to hear. He gestured frantically, but cold understanding only dawned when a dark shadow rose over her from behind. She shrieked and tried to dash towards her father, but something slammed into the side of her head and she knew no more.

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**Like it then my dears? I truly hope so, as always ANY feedback is appreciated, even just a few words. *Does best puppy eyes she can manage, fails because her puppy eyes always look creepy and gives up*. OK instead I'll just beg you for concrit because your views mean an awful lot to me and anything you can tell me about likes/dislikes in this story would rock my socks :) I hope to be updating this story semi-regularly as it is all written out, however, my wonderful BETAs are still working on it so it does depend when they can find the time to send me notes. Thanks to TheBratPrincess, Nienna Silmarwen and Roux Barcelone for all their hard work. Hats off to you my darlings.**

** Till next time xxx VVQ**


	2. Chapter 2

**Good evening my dears, look who's back? Very sorry this chapter's taken so long - took ages to take it through the editing process and I didn't want to reveal it to you beforehand because I really didn't think it was good enough. Anyway, here you have it, and I very much hope you enjoy it. As always, thank you to my lovely betas Roux Barcelone and Nienna Silmarwen, without whom I could never have posted this story.**

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When Anna regained consciousness her head spun so fast she thought she might vomit. Then the pain in her temple struck her – at first so sickeningly sharp that she could not hold back tears, but it slowly faded into a duller throb. Someone was carrying her - she was being jolted slightly by each of their footsteps. "Papa?" she breathed nervously, hoping for the low rumble of his voice giving her some words of comfort; as he always had when she had fallen from her pony, but no-one answered.

Someone was holding her aloft by the scruff of her neck, and she could hear harsh breathing. She opened her eyes – the lids felt as heavy as lead - and found herself airborne, hovering a few feet above the ground. There were voices somewhere distant and she slowly realised that they were calling her name. Her thoughts were hazy; she could remember leaving the house for something and seeing her father and his men on the path. Then everything clicked into place as she recalled the dark shape behind her; a werewolf, for some reason free from Dracula's lair, which had knocked her out – which had her now!

Raising her head she found that they were still in the forest, only a little way from where she had been struck. Her father and his men must be the ones calling. She took a deep breath to cry out to them, but a great, furred hand closed over her nose and mouth and squeezed until her head spun again and everything went black a second time.

It did not seem like long when Anna woke again, but instead of the icy mountain air on her face it was warm and damp and there was a sound of trickling water. It felt as though she was in an underground tunnel somewhere. The werewolf had released her neck and was now carrying her thrown over its shoulder like a sack of meal and her ribs were bruised and sore from the jouncing.

Her head still throbbed and her left arm was stinging. Wincing, Anna drew it up towards her face, squinting down at it. Her sleeve was torn open just above the elbow, and there were bloodstains on the ragged edges. A frightened knot tightened in her stomach as she realised the terrible possibility. She looked closer, telling herself it might be nothing but a scratch from when she had been knocked down, but the wound was a bite sure enough. Anna began to shake. Vaseria had seen this once or twice before, with the unlucky members of the werewolf-hunt who went out once a month to protect the village – and if one of them was bitten her father would put him out of his misery before the transformation could take place. But Papa was not here now. Her best hope now was that the werewolf would kill her before she could become like it.

If the werewolf had sensed that she was aware again it gave no sign, and carried her on up the tunnel for what felt like a mile or more. When Anna's eyes became adjusted to the light she noticed just how ragged and uneven its fur was – on its shoulders alone there were several bald spots. That meant it had only just been infected then – her father had told her that werewolves only shed before their first full moon and before their curse had completely consumed them. She was wandering just why a newly-turned werewolf would be let out from Dracula's lair before the full moon when they turned a corner in the tunnel and a flickering light appeared some way ahead. A few moments later they were emerging into a torch-lit chamber.

The first impression Anna had of the room was its stench of wet fur, the second was its size, for it was of vaulted stone and when she craned her neck upwards she could barely see the ceiling. An electric crackling was coming from one corner, and Anna gulped as she saw a werewolf chained there and writhing as a figure held a glowing metal rod against its chest. The figure turned as it heard them come in and gave a growl of displeasure.

"You were instructed to take your fill at the village – not to bring your pickings back with you."

With an effort; for her head had seemed to grow heavier in the past few minutes, Anna raised it to look at him. His figure was twisted into deformity, yet he was evidently human, and she had never heard of any human being in league with Dracula before. He gave another growl when he saw her movement.

"And alive too? You know how it unsettles the others to have fresh meat so close at hand. Give it here and I will dispose of it." He had put down the metal rod and was moving towards them when there was a screech from above.

"Valerious!"

Anna started at the sound of her name and looked up. There were several shadowy creatures on a walkway above them and it appeared to be one of them that had screamed. The wizened man glanced up at them and then back at her. "It cannot be..." he hissed. He shuffled over to them and pulled her from the werewolf's arms, grabbing her face and turning it this way and that. The sudden movement made Anna groggy and she whimpered as his hand crushed her bruises. He seemed not to notice – after another moment of scrutinising her he gave a nervous gulp and then hoisted her up over his shoulder, all the time shouting orders up to the creatures.

Her head was spinning again, her vision beginning to blur and a numbness was spreading up from her injured arm to her shoulder. The man was walking somewhere now, and in a few moments there was a dull creak of a door being pushed open, and she was being deposited just inside. A hand gripped her shoulder, holding her upright while the sleeve was torn away from her left arm and it was raised up for a few seconds. Then she was being shoved backwards and she lost her balance. Her right arm stretched out automatically to break her fall, but it was too weak to hold her up and she collapsed onto stone flags. She heard the door slam and a key turn in a lock, then shuffling footsteps fading away.

Her father or Velkan would probably have tried to find a way out of here at this point, but when she tried to rise she found her legs would not obey her. The room was pitch dark anyway – she could not have seen anything even if she had been able to stand. Cold sweat was pearling on her forehead. Perhaps if she curled up she would be warmer. The palm of her right hand was sore from her fall, but when she tried to clutch it to her she found something between her fingers. _Straw. _The floor of the chamber was strewn with it. _Warmth. _Anna took a deep breath, forced herself to her knees and crawled forward over the stone flags. A few feet ahead her fingers encountered more and more clumps of straw, and further on a larger pile. Shuddering, she curled herself as closely into it as possible. _I'm sorry Papa, _she thought as she let the darkness take her again.

.:I:.

It was a rare thing for any to disturb me at this hour. I had just settled myself in my private study, warmed and relaxed after a feed, and so I felt a burst of annoyance when Igor burst through the door without a knock. Still I kept my voice calm when I asked him what the matter was - for him to behave like this it had to be important.

"A Valerious brat Master! One of the werewolves brought it in after we let him out to feed."

"Oh?" I raised my head, curiosity piqued, "does it live?"

"It lives Master but it has been bitten – it is sick from it already and should make the transformation before dawn."

This was promising. One of the new werewolves must have snared the young gypsy prince while he had been out training; their instinct to infect and not to kill was strongest before their first full moon. Perhaps it had decided, in adolescent confusion, to bring him back. What luck. I smiled as I considered the prospect; my own gypsy pet to taunt the Valerious with. I put my book aside. "Take me to it."

Igor led me down into the bowels of my fortress; the werewolves' lair. Those that were loose bowed respectfully as we passed – most were allowed free rein down here but for the ones that Igor deigned rogue enough to torture in whatever manner pleased his twisted mind. I cared not – there were none better than Igor at keeping tight control of the werewolf population. In fact his agitation over a Valerious brat was almost comical. Yet when we reached the cells and Igor had unlocked one and let the door swing open I realised the cause of his discomfort; for curled into the straw was not the young gypsy prince, but the Valerious' last-born – Anna.

Velkan was one thing – the boy was close enough to manhood now to survive the transformation. But it was unlikely that one of Anna's years would live – at nine she was just too young. I crossed the threshold and bent over her, searching for some sign that she was fighting the venom, but her skin was icy and bathed in cold sweat; she was succumbing.

Yet there was something in her face still – I had first noticed it the last time my Brides and I had visited the Valerious manor. The child had been hidden – rather ineffectually - behind a half-open door, protecting her fool of a brother who had been too frightened to move. I had ignored her and was about to follow my Brides back to the castle, but when I had seen her properly there had been something that had made me pause a moment. The Valerious rarely produced children with the courage and determination to be any real threat – yet there was a set in young Anna's jaw and a determined gleam in her eyes - which even in a woman set her right apart from them. It was rare I saw an adversary who would be as worthy as this one. Yet it was unlikely that she would last the night.

"Igor?" I called, and heard him shuffling into the cell behind me.

"Yes, Master?"

"Fetch the cure from the tower and bring it to my Brides' sitting room." Only years of training allowed me to suppress a smirk when I saw the look on my servant's face on hearing the order.

"But – Master – if one of the werewolves gets loose before that cure can be replaced –"

"You think I am not aware of this? You will bring me that cure, and the moment you have handed it over you and the Dwergi will start work on the concoction of a new one – now go!"

Igor's face struggled a moment as he bit back his protests, and then he gave a low bow. "Of course Master."

When was gone I turned back to the Princess. Her fingers had taken on a blue tinge and her heart was beating slower, her shivering becoming more violent. I bent down and lifted her out of the straw.

.:I:.

Aleera was the only one to jump from her seat when she registered the heart beating downstairs; Marishka did not stir from her sewing nor I from my book. She paced the floor agitatedly, raving about how even with us here for him our master must always bring others home. Why could he not be content with all three of us? We could both hear the unsaid _or less_ in Aleera's voice.

Marishka I think had accepted years ago, as I certainly had, that we could never be enough for our master, but that we were honoured in that he let us remain at his side, and we were the ones he would always come back to when the heart that had beaten so quickly in his chamber was finally silenced. We were all three surprised, however, when we heard the heartbeat, and his footsteps, coming towards our sitting room door, and downright astounded when it opened and he entered with the young gypsy princess in his arms. Aleera stopped dead in her tracks, and Marishka let her sewing fall unnoticed from her lap as she stood up and stared at him. I soon recovered, and putting my book aside I went to him.

"Good evening my lord, how may we be of service to you?" I asked. I was rewarded with a grateful smile.

"Master?" Aleera said incredulously, "Why do you pollute our chamber with that scum?" But my master ignored her and handed the child to me. She was wrapped in his cloak, I saw, and almost wondered aloud at it, but held my tongue.

"Place her by the fire," he said. I did as I was bidden, laying the child on the settle that Marishka had just vacated and tucking her a little tighter into the cloak. The child was half-frozen and clearly sick. I could smell blood on her – recently she had bled profusely.

"Master?" said Marishka tentatively, loath to bother him with questions but desperate for answers all the same. He was about to speak but before he could do so there was a knock at the door, and he wrenched it open. Igor stood outside, a pair of tongs that gripped a ruby object in his hands. He handed these to my master, gave a low bow, and hurried away. Marishka was the first to realise what the object was and gave an audible gasp. I saw it at the same moment but managed to stay silent, though I could not stop my eyes widening with shock. Igor had brought the werewolf venom cure. It was kept locked in the tower – sealed in acid so none could steal it and we would have no protection if a werewolf were to bite us. The child then must have been infected, but why my master would deign to use the cure on her I did not understand. Still, I, unlike Aleera, would not protest.

"Master, what happened?" Marishka asked.

"One of the new werewolves brought her back – why I do not know. She will be dead in a few hours if she is not given the anti-venom."

"But Master!" said Aleera, "What if one of us were bitten before the cure can be replaced? You cannot waste it on her." He brushed her aside and strode over to the settle where the Princess lay and pulled his cloak from her.

"Do not question my orders. Verona, hold her for me." I sat down and shifted the child into my lap. Her left sleeve was torn and bloody, the skin beneath it marked with punctures.

My master took her uninjured arm in his hand and injected the red liquid into the crook of it. The Princess winced and moaned even in her sleep as the cure began to course through her veins. It was a strong medicine, and at her age if it did not heal her it could easily kill her with the fever it would cause. My master pocketed the empty syringe.

"Take care of her tonight my loves," he said, straightening, "I will see you at dawn. But should she wake you are to tell her nothing of the cure." He bowed and left us.

"Why does it fall to us to care for her?" Aleera said as soon as he was out of earshot, "Surely one of the servants could do it just as well."

"The Dwergi? Don't be such a fool Aleera, you know they possess no initiative whatsoever; all they are fit for is following Igor's orders." Marishka said. She crossed over to the settle and bent over the child. "Why do you imagine he wants her alive?"

All I could do was shake my head. My master had always been an enigma to me, and he would not likely reveal his plans to us. "I do not know. But he will not be best pleased if she should die tonight, not if he thinks it necessary to go to all that effort to save her. Aleera, fetch me hot water and bandages please." Aleera shot a murderous glance at me for giving her orders as she left, but I chose to ignore it. When she was gone Marishka laid a hand on the child's forehead.

"Her body warms; do you think she will wake soon?"

"Perhaps, but I doubt she will be able to stay conscious once the cure starts doing its work. She will soon grow sicker."

"I suppose." Marishka sounded disappointed. "Pretty little thing isn't she?"

"Yes, she is."

Aleera returned with the water at that moment and placed it down beside me. I damped a cloth in the bowl and began to clean the Princess' wound. Her eyes began to flutter when she felt the wet cloth on her skin, and by the time I was done bandaging her arm they were open and wandering inquisitively about the room. Aleera shot her a hostile glance but Marishka stared at her with open curiosity. The child eventually looked up to see who was holding her, and when she saw me she tried to say something, but could not quite form the words. On bathing the bruises on her face – their odd shape clearly identified them as marks from a werewolf-paw - I felt her forehead; her body was hot with fever as cure and venom fought for control. I decided it was best that she lay quiet for a time and put her in a light sleep. Once I was sure she rested I lifted her and signed to the others to follow me to the nearest guest bedroom.

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**So, there you have it. Thank you so much to all those who read and reviewed last time; I'll try to reply to all who are registered on the site via PM but to the others I'll do my best here.**

**Wanderingwarrior: Thanks so much and here you have it :)**

**xxvampiressxx: Thanks, I hope to be able to post the next one quicker.**

**Procrastinator: I'm glad you like it and as it happens I have the whole story typed out but it's going through the editing process at the moment and I really don't feel that I should post it before its in the best possible shape for people to read. **

**And thanks also to Dracanna, Dying Demon and Vinia Lilly for favouriting/ alerting, hope to hear more from you soon.**

**As for everybody else I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and I should have more up for you soon. Till then please read and review, even just a line, heck, even just a word would make my day and concrit as always rocks my socks. I bid you all adieu *bows*.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey hey, I'm back. Again, apologies for having taken so long but that pesky thing known as real life decided to get in the way of writing...again. Hope everyone is ok and please enjoy the chapter. As always thanks to my lovely beta Roux Barcelone, whose skills I would thoroughly recommend to anyone here :)**

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When Anna awoke she felt freezing as though she were covered with the rudest blanket and not her thick patchwork quilt. Shivering, she rolled over and drew the bedclothes closer about herself, though moving quietly so as not to wake Petronela. Then she realised that these cool sheets were nothing like the smooth linens of her own bed, and that her arm was throbbing and her head felt strangely light.

Her eyes snapped open. This bed was not her own; she could see a dark canopy above her, and there were posts supporting it at the bottom of the bed with drapes around them. Anna struggled for a moment and then managed to sit up against the bolsters. The sheets felt wet against her legs, and when she placed a hand on her shift she found it soaked with sweat. This bed was grander than any she had seen in her life; even damp she could feel the quality of the sheets under her, and the thickness of the coverlets. There was a fire to her right, the room was dimly-lit by it, but she could barely feel the heat it should have given off; she must have a fever. But its light let her see the room; empty but for its furniture – much of it gilded and ornate. Whose house was she in? There were none as rich as this in Vaseria, and they were the only town for miles. She gathered the covers protectively around herself and tried to remember what had happened, but when she cast her mind back there were just disjointed memories. An acrid smell of wet fur. A tall, pale man with high cheekbones and piercing eyes standing over her. Dracula!

Anna swung her legs over the side of the bed to run, but when she tried to stand they buckled beneath her and she fell in a heap to the floor. Trying to get up again her legs still would not hold her and black spots formed in front of her eyes. Hastily she sat back on the floor again and took deep breaths, feeling as helpless as a new-born babe.

It seemed that the vampires had her. Heaven knew what they intended to do with her; her father had said that if they caught her they would feast on her blood – either to kill her or worse make her like them. Eyes widening, she lifted her hand to her neck, but the skin on either side felt whole. She looked down at her injured arm and found it bandaged, and she had been put to bed in a grand room, not thrown to rot in some dungeon. Was this trickery for something worse to come?

Her vision had cleared but Anna was still dizzy. Raising a hand, she grabbed the nearest post and pulled herself back up and under the covers. There was a chair by her bed, she noticed, positioned a little askew as though it had recently been vacated, though it was empty now. Shivering, she curled herself back into the linens. Anna lay for a long time trying to think, but her head felt as though it was stuffed with carded wool. She could recall lying with her face pressed against a fabric that was damp with her own sweat. Her cheeks had burned and her head ached, and there had been silvery voices all around her, and when she opened her eyes she had seen them; Dracula's Brides. Then she had been lying in a bed covered by too many blankets with a fire roaring nearby and she was crying that it was too hot and she needed to get up, but relentless hands had held her down. Then finally, when she thought she could take no more, a softer male voice, and a cool hand on her forehead, and she had known nothing for a long time after that.

She had been brought here by a werewolf, she remembered that now, and it had bitten her, but the awful spreading numbness had gone from her arm. If only she weren't so weak, she could leave this place and get help, but the soft linens of the bed felt soothing and perhaps she should lie still for a few moments until she had some strength back...

When Anna next became aware she found her throat was tight, she thought at first from wanting to cry. Then she realised that her mouth felt as dry as sand. Water. She needed water. She reached for the jug that always sat on the bedside table, but when her hands caught it she found it empty. Frowning, she sat up and found herself not in her room. It hadn't been a dream then. She was in the same rich chamber as before.

Anna placed the jug she had found back on the bedside table; there were dregs in it – recently it had held water, and she drank them hastily but they only served to make her thirstier than before. Anna drew her knees to her chest and tried not to think about the dryness in her throat. There were strange sounds echoing from below now; voices, and howls, and strange whirrs and clanks. She was sure the howling was from werewolves and couldn't suppress a shudder at the sound, which brought on shivers she couldn't stop. Anna sat listening to these for what seemed like hours, licking her chapped lips to bring some moisture to them, but eventually she could take no more. Someone was downstairs, and since she had been kept alive so far perhaps they would not deny her request for water.

Anna shivered as the cold air of the room touched her bare legs, and she stumbled several steps before they held her weight. She was deathly afraid when her fingers closed around the door-handle that the room would be locked, but it turned at her urging. She found herself in a dimly-lit corridor. Anna had to brace herself against the door to look down it, and almost wished she hadn't for to her eyes it seemed to stretch on forever. Yet she forced herself up and along it, stopping to try the handle of every door she came to, but all were locked.

It frightened Anna when the corridor suddenly broadened out and she tripped and nearly fell had she not caught onto something. It took her a moment to find her breath again, and then she found herself leaning against a banister railing, over a staircase with light glowing at the bottom. It looked a long way down, but this seemed promising.

Trembling, Anna made her way onto the staircase. It was slow going, for her legs ached harder at every step. Further down the air grew colder and soon the stairs were winding through stone instead of wood panelling, and she found that the light that she had been following was casting an odd reddish glow on the walls. Anna began to wonder deep down if she might not have been better staying put. But she had to have water, so she raised her chin and told herself that Anna Valerious, daughter of Boris, king of the Gypsies, was not afraid.

Anna's head was spinning again when she noticed the bottom landing not far off, but when she saw it she found she could manage one more burst of strength. There was a sharp smell in the air; hot metal and a sound like voices. The staircase opened onto another cavernous chamber like the one the werewolf had brought her to. But this room, instead of the chains and crowding of that chamber this was stuffed with machinery of the sort she had never seen the like of; a huge chemical tank, hundreds of wheels and levers on every wall and miles of cables between them. Anna had heard of the wonders of modern technology and engineering in Vaseria but had never dreamed of anything like this. She took a moment just to stare at it open-mouthed.

The red glow and voices were coming from one corner, and as she edged around the chemical tank she noticed several of the shadowy creatures she had seen earlier clustered around a work-bench. They were heating something over a brazier, whose flame cast a dull glow on the walls.

These strange creatures had helped her once before; perhaps they would help her again. At any rate it would be better than looking for the vampires. She was just working up the courage to go over to them when one of them looked up and stared straight at her. "Valerious!" it shrieked to its fellows, and all of them stopped their work and stared at her. Each wore a hooded cloak that cast its face in shadow, though she could see that they wore goggles, perhaps to protect them from the stuff they were working with. She cleared her throat.

"Please, I need some water -", she began, but before she could even finish her sentence they were flying at her. The first to reach her had her pinned to the floor with its clawed hand before she could even think of trying to run, while the others chattered agitatedly. She tried to struggle but though the one holding her was not much larger than she was it was more than a match for her strength. They talked for awhile in a language she could not understand, but eventually seemed to come to some agreement. One drew its knife, and Anna could not hold back a scream.

"What on earth is going on in here?" a sharp voice called, and the creatures hesitated. "You were ordered to concoct a new cure and yet I find you concerning yourselves with quite another thing. The Master will certainly have something to say about this! What have you there anyway?"

Footsteps clacked closer, and suddenly the creatures had released her and were drawing back. Dazed, Anna looked up. A young woman was standing over her, and Anna's first thought was that with her golden hair and white skin she must be an angel. But then she saw the gleam of fangs in her mouth and realised she had been a fool; this was a Bride.

The vampiress leaned closer to her, and Anna shrank back instinctively.

"Anna? What are you doing down here?"

"I – I was thirsty, I was looking for some water," Anna stammered. She had wanted to finish her sentence with 'Madam', as Petronela had taught her was polite when addressing an important lady. Yet for all of the Bride's regality Anna could not quite bring herself to call her by any title.

"Of course. But come, don't you know that you will catch a chill lying on the stone floor?" The Bride giggled, and Anna somehow found herself embarrassed at being caught in that position even though it had been through no fault of her own. The vampiress offered her hand, but Anna stared at it warily. It was many-ringed and the nails were long enough to look like claws. The Bride seemed to sense her discomfort. "The Master does not wish any harm to come to you and I abide by his wishes. Please, take it." Anna considered a moment, then realising that she really had no other choice, gripped the proffered hand. The vampiress helped her to her feet, but once Anna stood she found herself swaying. The Bride sighed.

"You can hardly keep your feet, come, you should be in bed." She caught Anna under the arms and in a moment had lifted her onto her hip as if she weighed nothing. The Bride said something to the creatures in their strange, chattering speech that sounded as though she were scolding them. When she was done she gestured to the dish on the brazier, and they all scurried back to it.

"Dwergi." she said as she picked her way delicately to the staircase. "They are our servants – very clever at alchemy but they have little common sense – they assumed that as a Valerious you were an enemy and attacked you on sight." Anna nodded shyly. They hadn't been trying to help her in the werewolf dungeon then. "I am Marishka by the way," she continued, "the second of my master's brides."

They had reached the stairs by now, and Dracula's bride – Marishka – began to climb. The vampiress' hands were cool on Anna's skin; it was almost soothing. Her head was aching again and she was beginning to think that Marishka's suggestion of bed sounded like a good one, if only she could have a drink first. They did not seem to intend her harm for the moment; she would have a good sleep, and then make sure she was on her guard.

Marishka saw her licking her dry lips and smiled. "Perhaps I should have left some more water for you, I will get you a drink once you are back in your room; it is not safe for you to wander the castle. I suppose now that I should not have left you alone, but you must understand that watching you sleep was so dull I did not think it would matter if I left you for a time." Anna recalled the slow minutes spent upstairs before she had dared to leave the room to look for water and felt a flash of annoyance. She kept her features blank though; she could not risk showing any such feeling here.

With Marishka's quick step – even in what Anna considered to be dangerously high heels – it was not long before they were entering the room Anna had woken in. Marishka pulled back the covers and placed Anna on the bed. "I will return in a moment – stay put," she said, catching up the empty jug. Anna lay down and watched Marishka's retreating back as she left the room. The Bride wore the same outfit that she had when Anna had seen her before; a tiny gold beaded bodice, flowing white tulle sleeves and loose trousers of the same material. Anna knew little of women, but even she could tell that Marishka was beautiful.

The Bride was back in a few moments with water. Anna's hands were shaking when she took the glass Marishka offered and it clinked against her teeth, but the vampiress extended a hand and held it steady for her. The cold water on her lips was absolute bliss, and she closed her eyes to savour the feeling. When she opened them she saw Marishka grinning at the spectacle she made, but Anna found she didn't care. She gulped down the first glass quickly and the Bride poured her a second. "Not so fast this time," Marishka said, "I do not want you to be sick." She sipped the second glass more warily, and Marishka took it from her before she had finished it.

"That is enough for the moment. Go to sleep now." Anna nodded. Marishka hesitated, frowning as though she were trying to remember something. Then she smiled as though she had it, and tucked the covers around Anna. "Goodnight child," she said, and kissed her forehead lightly. Her lips were icy.

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**Likey? I hope so :) As always please please review me, they rock my world they really do. Hopefully I will manage to get the next chapter up quicker.**

**Review replies:**

**Procrastinator: Thank you!**

**xxvampiressxx: Cheers, there are plenty more POV changes coming up.**

**wanderingwarrior: Cure did indeed work and now Anna is stuck in the vampires' clutches. **

**To everyone else who reviewed last time thanks ever so and I will get back to you via review reply. Thanks also to CompellingNostalgia and Cherry2moon for favouriting!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey dudes, me again. No excuses this time, here's your next chapter. Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and New Year. Chapter dedicated to the lovely Roux Barcelone and her Hasi.**

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It was daylight and Anna was shivering by a crackling fire while someone changed the damp sheets on the bed for dry ones. There were figures coming and going with towels. Someone was holding a glass to her lips, and soft voices around her were discussing something but she could make no sense of their words. Then it was night again and Anna was back in bed with her limbs aching bitterly. She stared at the bed's velvet canopy for a long instant before she remembered where she was. Sighing, Anna tried to roll over and reach for the water Marishka had left for her, but the room spun as she moved and it took several deep breaths before it stilled. She was steeling herself for another try for the water when a hand slid behind her head and tilted it up. She yelped and her eyes flew open; a pale, thin face, framed by dark hair swam into view as something clinked against her teeth; the glass from the bedside table. Anna drank gratefully, and once she had finished she felt the bolsters being piled behind her, then strong hands pulling her upright to lean against them.

"Thank you," Anna murmured automatically, but her words came out in an exhausted slur. She looked up to find that the face belonged to a tall woman in a green costume similar to the one Marishka had worn. Another Bride.

"_Don't try to move,"_ was the woman's curt response. Anna had nodded shyly before she realised that though she had heard the voice in her head the Bride's lips had not moved. The Bride smiled callously, showing her sharp fangs, and Anna found she had been staring with her mouth wide open. She closed it quickly and noticed for the first time that a chair that had been placed by the side of the bed; as though in preparation for her waking. It was occupied by Dracula.

"Ah. Awake at last Princess," he said, aloud, draping an arm around his Bride's waist as she sat down upon his lap. Anna felt too panicked to respond; every instinct in her body was screaming at her to run, but her legs were too weak to move. Trembling, she forced herself to remain still.

"_You are weak because you rose too soon and exhausted yourself. A few days of rest and you will be yourself again." _The Bride's voice was again in Anna's mind. She shuddered. Dracula chuckled.

"You are intimidating our guest my love," he said, "please speak aloud." The vampiress nodded meekly.

"I apologise," she said, though Anna could not see any contrition in her face. "I am Verona. None here will harm you – be calm." The vampires held her gaze until Anna nodded uneasily and leaned back into the bolsters. "That is better. Are you hungry?" Anna nodded again, though she truly did not know if she could keep any food down, but it seemed safer not to argue.

"Very well," Verona said, "I will fetch you something." The Bride rose from Dracula's lap and swept out of the room; her steps as light and graceful as Marishka's had been. There had been something in her accent that Anna could not place; certainly not Transylvanian. She found herself wondering where Dracula had found her.

"How is your arm child?"

Startled, she looked back at Dracula to find him lounging languidly in his chair, watching her. When she did not respond he gestured to her arm, and glancing down at it Anna realised she had not even thought of it since waking up; it no longer pained her, in fact it was only a little sore beneath the bandage. How could that be?

"I- it is much better sir," she stuttered. Dracua smirked at her obvious discomfort at speaking to him but nodded approvingly. His eyes were the strangest she had ever seen; dark in colour, yet as she watched they seemed to lighten to a penetrating blue. Anna, suddenly very uncomfortable, lowered her eyes to her lap.

The coverlet over her was crimson velvet that looked to be of supreme quality; perhaps even Italian stuff. They had nothing of the kind in Vaseria.

A soft chuckle came from the chair.

"Look at me," he said. Anna hesitated and the Count's voice grew quieter still, "Do not disobey me Princess." Steeling herself, Anna met his gaze. "There is no need to fear me, Princess, not if you do as I say."

Anna nodded, and they watched one another in silence. How could she not fear him? The vampires were her family's lifelong enemy and her father had pledged his life to fight them – how was she to let her guard down around them, even for a moment? Everyone knew that it was not even safe to share a room with a vampire, for who knew what they could bring you to under their terrible influence? Yet here she was, alone in his castle, and he was the only one with the answers she needed. She gathered her courage.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Just now? It has been a day since you last woke, and three since you were brought here."

Three days! Anna shivered as she realised that her father would have lost hope by now; and he'd be right to. She glanced to the window and found the moon to be waxing again. It would be about a week then, till she made the change. Her arm might have healed but there was no cure for werewolf venom. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she bit her lip to stop them falling.

"Something troubles you child?" Dracula asked. Anna looked up.

"My arm – I was bitten – I'll change won't I?" her voice shook as she spoke.

He shrugged. "It has healed has it not?" Anna nodded, confused. "Then you will be well."

"But – how? There is no cure now I'm infected." The vampire shook his head.

"Suffice it to say that you will be well again child, and never mind how."

Anna's eyes widened at the possibility – yet surely she could not believe him? After all, she had been kept here, had she not? There must be a reason for that, and already all sorts of unpleasant possibilities were forming in her mind.

"But - then - w-what do you want with me?"

"Why, nothing child."

"Nothing?" Anna was incredulous, "Then, why am I –" Dracula held up a hand for silence and she stopped mid-sentence – afraid of what he might do if she disobeyed.

"Peace, Anna. You were brought here by accident and you need only remain until you have recovered sufficiently to travel. In your condition the journey home would be too much for you." Anna looked up then, astounded, and he laughed. "Yes I know; unthinkable of your sworn enemy isn't it? Never fear Princess, one day you and I shall be adversaries, but it will not be today." She still stared at him, and he sighed. "Truly child, it is alright." His eyes had brightened again to a clear blue; and Anna found her mental protests easing. The vampire smiled. "Ah," he said, glancing towards the door, "Verona is coming."

His Bride slipped back inside a few moments later carrying a bowl. A pungent scent rose from it, and Anna was suddenly ravenous. Verona helped her to eat; her hands shook too much to hold the spoon. It was chicken broth; rich and flavourful, and Anna felt stronger after a few mouthfuls. Dracula watched her in silence throughout her meal; his long fingers steepled thoughtfully beneath his chin. Verona gave the window several sidelong glances as Anna finished, and as soon it was done she and her husband rose.

"The dawn comes, and we must leave now," Dracula said, and Verona was pulling the bolsters from her back as he spoke. "Never fear, someone will watch over you until the sun sets. Until then I bid you good day." He placed a hand upon her brow. Anna frowned a moment, his fingers were freezing, but then a veil seemed to draw across her vision. She fought to concentrate, but a numbing cold was spreading from his fingertips and the room was darkening. "Sleep now child," he whispered.

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**You likey? Please R&R, even though I don't deserve it after so long...**


	5. Chapter 5

**An extra Christmas present for you my dears.**

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Anna's sleep was dreamless, and when she woke she felt much better. Marishka was perched on the chair by the side of the bed. She must have been watching her face closely, for her eyes lit up – to a cat-like yellow – when Anna opened hers, making Anna shrink back uneasily, then berate herself for her show of weakness. Sunlight was glowing dimly through heavy shutters – which she imagined were for Marishka's benefit - and it seemed to be late afternoon. There was more broth, and water, waiting for her. Anna was able to feed herself this time, and, when Marishka helped her out of bed, could take faltering steps too. Once outside the room though she stumbled and a giggling Marishka had to half-carry her down the corridor.

The room they eventually entered turned out to be a bathroom, yet it was far richer than any she had ever seen before. It had a cast-iron tub on little clawed feet, white towels instead of linen bath-sheets and shelves of lotion and scent in cut glass bottles. Best of all, the water came out of the taps steaming hot – Anna gasped to see such a thing. Wealthy as the Valerious were, Anna was used to bathing in a copper tub in the nursery that the servants had to fill with buckets, and most families in Vaseria bathed one after the other in a tin hip-bath before the kitchen fire. Dracula's lair was proving to be nothing like she had imagined it.

Marishka laughed away Anna's protests as she started to undress her. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about child, and besides, I changed you before, do you not remember?" Anna shook her head but when she glanced down to her shift she realised that the Bride was right; she was no longer wearing her old linen shift but a silk one that was far too large for her.

"Mine," Marishka declared, "yours is being laundered; though we keep plenty of spare clothing here we have little that will fit you, and I have not had chance to find you anything yet." She had tugged the shift over Anna's head and had lifted her into the tub before she could comment further. Anna sighed as the warm water closed around her body; it soothed the aches in her legs and arms. "There are dresses for you for when you are up and about," Marishka continued, "but I think those will have to wait a few days more, no?" Anna nodded contentedly, hardly paying attention as Marishka prattled on. "We will have to see what becomes you best – the clothing may be a little out of fashion now, but I'm sure that some of it will suit you." The Bride sounded like one of the village-children, enamoured over some new game. It seemed now that she was the toy, which made Anna somehow uncomfortable.

"Your bruises are fading nicely – a few days more and they should have gone completely," Marishka commented as she pressed a flannel gently to Anna's face. Anna frowned – what with the bite and her fever she had all but forgotten the bruises the werewolf had made on her. "Like to see the damage?" Marishka asked, and Anna found herself nodding. The Bride fetched a hand-mirror from a shelf and held it up for her, and Anna could not stop herself from giggling at the spectacle she made. Her hair – uncombed for several days – was a mouse's nest, her cheeks and chin were several shades of yellow and purple in four long stripes that mirrored the wolf's fingers, and her right temple was swollen. She glanced down to her belly and found similar marks there where she had been jounced on the werewolf's shoulders, but what surprised her most was how much her body had changed – where before she had been plump her ribs showed clearly through her skin.

"How – how did I get so thin?" she stammered to Marishka.

"Well – you haven't eaten much since you came here and your fever sapped a great deal of your strength – that will be it." The Bride was not meeting her eyes. Anna frowned – that was a tactic she herself used when she was telling half-truths to Petronela – generally about how she had got her clothes so dirty – and she did not think the Bride was telling her all. Yet what could she be hiding? Anna shuddered – anything that could alter her body so much in just one night seemed somehow dreadfully wrong.

"Do not worry," Marishka continued, "With rest and good food you will soon fatten up. Keep still now." Anna did as she was told as the Bride poured a jug of warm water over her hair to begin washing it. Anna decided she might as well let her take charge; she was feeling tired again anyway and it was easier not to think on things like that for the moment. Once her hair was clean the Bride lifted her out and wrapped her in one of the towels – it felt quite as wonderful as Anna had anticipated – then when she was dry dressed her in a fresh shift. Marishka combed her hair and plaited it, tying the end with a pretty scarlet ribbon. Once she was done Anna was only too glad to stumble back into bed. She felt as exhausted from the bath as if she had run around the forest all day with Velkan, and it was not long before she slept.

Things went on in this manner for several days in Dracula's lair. Marishka would bring her food three times a night and would chatter about Anna's health while she waited to take her dishes away. Anna had been too nervous to answer her questions at first – she had still half-believed that at any moment the Bride would turn on her with fangs drawn – yet, slowly, the Bride had drawn conversation from her until she felt able to answer her and sometimes even ask questions for herself. Marishka was typically the most careful nurse imaginable and would be forever fussing over things, yet on some days her manner would be sharp and irritable, and she would sit tapping her foot impatiently while Anna ate and snatch the dish from her when she was done. Verona occasionally appeared too, though she would generally just slip her head around the door and to ask Anna how she was feeling, and never stayed long. Anna herself lost all track of time; mostly she slept, for even the smallest venture tired her and she was constantly plagued by headaches. These factors combined meant that she could barely keep awake for more than two or three hours at a stretch. Every time either Marishka or Verona appeared she would ask timidly when she might go home, but they always answered that she was not yet fit for it.

.:I:.

I sewed while I waited in our sitting-room; clothing Anna had been wearing when she was brought here. They had been laundered but the little blouse and skirt were badly torn, and had sat on Marishka's shelf for her to fix for days now, but she had, of course, forgotten them. The child herself, it seemed, was mending well; another day or so of rest should see her well enough to return. Her fever after her harsh medicine had left her weak longer than any of us had anticipated, and she was growing anxious to return to her family.

The door-latch finally clicked and I looked up as Marishka entered the room and sat down upon the sofa.

"And how fares our guest?" I asked. Marishka smiled; in one of her indulgent moods it seemed. My master's middle Bride was actually the most carefree and playful of all of us, yet with it, the most fickle. She would work at a task or pastime for a week or a year - till her interest was drawn by something else, then all would lie abandoned. Her shelf in this room contained any number of books and embroideries she had begun and then forgotten about – and Marishka had transferred this attitude to her duties with Anna too. Having seen for myself that she sometimes let them slide I had resolved to speak to her about it.

"Anna does well." Marishka answered my original question. "She ate all the food I brought her with a good will. I think it is true what they say; it is good to see a child with a healthy appetite." I suppressed a smile; Marishka had no idea of what she spoke of – she was probably just adopting the opinions she had heard voiced in some housewife's handbook in our master's library.

I was setting about continuing my mending when I realised that Marishka had risen and looked as though she were about to leave.

"Stay a moment," I said, "I wish to speak to you." Marishka looked irritable, but sat down again. As the other two were younger than I they were generally obliged to obey me but did so with bad grace.

"It is about our guest," I began.

"What of her?" Marishka interrupted, "I have told you, she is mending well enough under my care."

"Not quite so my sister, I visited her chamber just this evening before she woke, and there had been no food or water brought for her yet, but you had been up and about for several hours."

"But Verona," my sister pleaded, "you know that the Master brought those new embroidery silks for me yesterday, and I have so wanted to work on my sampler; why, he brought me two skeins that were actually of gold…" she put her fingers to her mouth to stifle her giggle, "Did I not show you how well they looked?"

"Yes, but sister, Anna is not some new toy or magazine that you may put aside as it pleases you; she is a child and children require near constant care. And what is more, the Master entrusted her to us."

"And, what, pray sister, would you know about caring for a child?" she said acidly, "it is not as though you ever had one, or did you and our Master actually managed to rear one before my time? Or perhaps even you and Federigo –"

"Enough!" I declared. My wrath was rising in my throat at my sister's words. She stared at me wide-eyed with surprise at my reaction, as I fought to subdue my bestial side, and clenched my hands in my skirts. "I did not ask to speak to you for you to behave thus but to remind you of what you owe to our Master."

My tone had been sharper than I had intended, and Marishka had shrank back a little. I sighed.

"You will be more careful?" I asked, in a gentler tone. Marishka nodded, slowly. I went back to my sewing, while Marishka sat still, staring at her hands which were folded in her lap. I had expected annoyance at my rebuke, but this was something else entirely. She noticed the work in my lap and took the clothes from me wordlessly. I picked up a book from the pile on the table and opened it, though all the time watching Marishka beneath my eyelashes. There was a tenderness in her face as she concentrated on her task that was unfamiliar.

"Marishka." I said, after a few moments' thought.

She looked up. "Yes sister?"

"You do understand that the child is merely here at our master's whim do you not?" She nodded, but her expression was doubtful. I decided to continue. "It was almost certain when she was brought here that he would have left her to the werewolf lair. When she returns home she will again be as any other villager." _And so fair game should our master decide it._ Marishka understood the implication in my words. She stared down at her sewing for a while before she nodded. Sensing that I would get no more from her I was about to return to my book, when she looked back up at me and said, in tones that were too bright and careless, "Perhaps, sister, it would be better if you and Aleera cared for Anna after all." I agreed with no more comment, but found myself wondering what the child truly meant to Marishka.

.:I:.

There was a sudden clatter from downstairs, and Anna shuddered. She'd had a week to grow used to the sounds of Dracula's lair, but it seemed that no matter how often she heard them they always frightened her. Clanks and clatters from downstairs were common, but worse were the sounds that travelled all the way up to her chamber, whirring and thrumming that made her walls vibrate and seemed to shake the very walls of the castle. Worst of all were the werewolf cries, which echoed up from the cellars, which set Anna's teeth on edge and her arm aching with phantom pain.

She drew her knees under her chin and stared out of the window. Marishka had given her a wrapper to wear – cream velvet, lined with fur, which swamped her, but at least kept out the cold. Her chamber was positioned very high up in a tower of black stones, and was freezing. At the bottom of the tower was a courtyard – always disconcertingly empty – and then nothing but snowy mountains as far as the eye could see. Looking at them made her dizzy, but there was little enough else to do here. The hours while the vampires slept were long and lonely. Her door was always kept locked. Two days ago Verona had come in, and after examining her carefully, had agreed that she could get out of bed without supervision. Anna had been overjoyed at the prospect, deathly bored as she was with lying still. She had run all over her bedroom, opening every drawer and chest and searching every corner for something interesting. She'd found old notepaper, mothballs, broken ornaments, and nothing else.

Anna had seized the notepaper, recalling a story her father had told her, of prisoners who carved on their cell walls, marking their initials, and counting the days of their sentence. She hadn't dared to write on the walls of her cell, but she'd found a stub of pencil, and started marking off each day she spent in Dracula's lair.

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**Review my darlings?**


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE: New small section added to the end of chapter five!**

**Life has this habit of getting in the way of updates, doesn't it? Thanks so much to my reviewers, really appreciate the continued interest!**

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As the days had gone by, and the marks on her notepaper increased, Anna had grown more and more jaded. She would ask to go home every day, but the brides always told her she was not fit for it. Yet she was up and about, and more bored than she had ever been in her life. The scraping of the lock when Marishka or Verona turned the key on her jarred in her ears and set her teeth on edge. She had taken to jumping up the moment clacking heels had faded down the corridor, and rattling the door handle, praying that for once they might have left it unlocked.

Anna decided later that it was this attitude that had been her undoing. She was sitting on the window-seat in Marishka's wrapper and her own sturdy boots, with her knees tucked under her chin and her hand clenched tight under her arm. It ached dully, and there were dusky pink marks across the palm. Recalling the look in Dracula's eyes when he had caught her, Anna supposed she had got off lightly.

It began here yesterday, when she'd been curled in this position again, waiting for dawn to break, and Marishka had just come in for her supper dishes. The bride was impatient, tapping her sandal and urging Anna to hurry so she could leave before sunrise, but once the door had closed, there was no click of the lock.

Anna had careened over to the door, almost unable to contain her excitement. When it opened she thought her heart would stop. Possibilities spread across her thoughts like ripples on a pond. The day was dawning, and the vampires would not be about till sunset. The entire mysterious house that her family had been trying to find for generations was hers for the day. That would be something to tell her father when she got back. So Anna had stuffed her notepapers in her wrapper, and slipped over the threshold before she could change her mind.

Everything seemed so strange. The house felt as though a spell had been cast upon it, like Sleeping Beauty's castle in the fairy tale. Despite the growing light outside, every window she passed was shuttered tightly. Anna could not help but picture Dracula and his brides at rest. Her father had told her that vampires slept in coffins during the day, kept safe by means of an ice seal. Anna shuddered, and reached down a candle from the wall, for comfort.

She was surprised when she came to the staircase so quickly, for before, in her fever, the walls had seemed to stretch for miles. Tonight there was not even a glow from the bottom of the staircase. Anna leaned cautiously over the banister. For now, no sounds floated up. Yet something was going on in this castle – that much was plain. The noises from downstairs might frighten her, but her father was a strong, brave man, and he would surely want to know just what Dracula was up to.

The first flight of stairs was as richly carpeted as the rest of the house, but as she travelled downwards, this gave way to ruder matting, and finally to bare boards, scratched and splintered. Anna wondered with a sinking feeling what had damaged them.

When she finally stepped into the laboratory, it took all Anna had not to turn back. The cellar was pitch-black and echoed with her footfalls, and her little candle guttered in draughts whose source she could not find. There were dark hulks of machinery everywhere, and the polished dials on them looked suspiciously like eyes. Anna's hands began to shake, and she gripped the candle as tight as she could, less frightened by the laboratory than the idea of being suddenly plunged into darkness, all alone. Then she remembered her father.

_Don't just look: see_, Boris had said to Velkan, one day. Her brother was bruised and battered after a training session, and try as he might, he'd not been able to block any of their father's blows. Papa had taken him aside, showed him how to read his opponent's movements, tell where he would strike and where he would block. There were control panels and labelled dials aplenty here. Even if she didn't understand things, she could write them down.

Steeling herself, she'd crossed to the nearest panel, holding her candle as high as she could. _Voltage __Metre_. Anna leaned her papers awkwardly against the panel's wall and scribbled it down. She made her way slowly around the cellar, examining each machine closely with her candle. Her fright ebbed as she went. After all, weren't the people of Vaseria always saying how clever her Papa was? There were many different machines here: iron pieces with brass fittings and polished dials, riveted chemical tanks, surely he could puzzle them out?

Anna was sounding out a word on the side of a copper tank when something rang a bell in her mind, making her pause, frowning, rocking on the balls of her feet. Something she had heard Papa say to Velkan once. All the machines she had seen so far had been connected through means of black cabling. It meant something important, she knew. And it had to do with lightning.

She was leaning against a copper tank, puzzling this out, when there came a low chattering from the next cellar, and then another voice which made her heart leap into her mouth.

She dropped her candle and dashed behind the tank, stuffing her papers into her nightgown as she went. Dracula and an entourage of Dwergi were coming into the lab.

A barked command and the voices of the Dwergi grew silent. Anna huddled against the surface of the tank. A heavy tread paused a few feet from where she stood.

"It is no use trying to hide, Anna, I saw your light from the third cellar."

Anna shuddered but remained where she was.

A light was struck behind the tank.

"I know you're behind there, girl. Have you courage enough to face me, or shall I be obliged to fetch you out?"

Frightened tears pricked in Anna's eyes. She knew it would be the worse for her if she kept him waiting. She took a shaky breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped out.

Dracula stood behind the tank with a lantern; his eyes lit to their strange blue shade and his teeth bared in a snarl. Anna began to shake.

"Come upstairs."

With that, the Count turned, and strode away without so much as a glance. Anna glanced at the Dwergi, who chittered, and scurried after him. All their journey he did not look back, and Anna's chest grew tighter with nerves as they went on. They climbed back up into the house, and then away from her chamber and along corridors she had never seen, till she was completely at a loss to where they were. She kept her eyes on his polished black boots and tried not to imagine what he might have in store for her. Papa's best whipping would probably be nothing compared to it.

Anna had expected to come to the chamber the vampires slept in, but the count brought her instead to a well-lit room in one of the towers. It seemed to be his study, for it held a desk full of neatly-ordered papers and pigeonholes labeled in a firm red script. She frowned, for the room seemed to have been prepared for them: new candles lit and a fire recently laid. When the count gestured her towards it, she went gratefully. Her shivers eased, but the tightness in her chest did not. She could feel the count's gaze on her back.

"Well? You had better tell me what it was you thought you were doing."

A loose film of soot was fluttering on the chimney-back. Anna kept her eyes fixed on it. "The door was open, Sir, and I wanted to look around." That was the truth, wasn't it?

"And you naturally made your way to the cellars?" Anna tried not to wince. "Why did you go there?"

Anna swallowed, hard. "I went there because – I kept hearing noises from my room, from down there. And I wanted to see what might have made them."

"I see. And what did you find?" The count's tone could have stripped paint.

"Nothing, I found nothing! That is to say –," she went on under Dracula's glare, "I found the machinery but I couldn't imagine what it might be for. Please, I was just taking a look."

"Do you think to insult me?"

"No, Sir!"

"The truth, then. What did you make of what you found?"

Anna took a deep breath and lifted her gaze from the chimney-back. Dracula's face was unreadable.

"There were more machines there than I imagined possible. I can't read half the labels on the glass things." An odd calmness had come over her as she'd begun to speak, the words tumbling from her mouth. "I do know they're all linked somehow – by cables and wires, so I know they're something to do with elec – electric? I've heard the word but I've forgotten it. It's the power you find in lightening."

Now Dracula was frowning, intrigued, studying her face closely. As the moments passed, Anna fought not to squirm under his gaze. "Please, Sir," she said, when she could bear it no more, "I swear I am telling the truth!"

He blinked, and the spell was broken.

"That I can see, girl. But what possessed you to think that you were free to wander about my home? No, do not hang your head like that, look at me. You are not fool enough to think that if the door was left unlocked you were free to leave."

The count had stood from his chair now and was rummaging in one of the desk drawers. Anna winced when she saw the object he drew out. A line of metal beads, covered in silk, that scholars used to hold down springing pages.

"Hold out your hand."

She did as she was told, putting her hand out straight, as she was bidden. The air whistled when he brought the beads down, and she gritted her teeth and managed not to make a sound. The silk kept her skin from breaking, but red wheals appeared where the beads struck. He swung it twice more, and paused. Anna looked up in surprise to see the count had turned away from her and was returning the beads to their drawer. She'd expected at least ten.

"If you are ever found outside your room unaccompanied again I am afraid that that will be nothing compared to the punishment you shall receive then. Go back to your room."

He had turned back to the papers on his desk, and Anna went to the door and turned the handle clumsily with her left hand, but paused.

"S - sir – Count?"

Dracula looked up, indifferent, a pen in his hand.

"Anna?"

"You told Marishka to leave the door unlocked. You were waiting for me, to see what I'd do."

A smile flashed on Dracula's face, showing Anna a glimpse of his fangs, but vanished so quickly Anna wondered if she had truly seen it.

"Go back to your room, child."

Anna went from the room as fast as she could. Once back in her chamber she made straight for the bed, hid herself under the blankets with her hand curled close to her chest, and shivered.

She had no inkling that back in Dracula's office he had laid his pen aside as her heartbeat retreated, and was chuckling softly, with a smirk on his face and a strange glint in his eye.

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**Hope you enjoyed, my dears.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Good evening. This new chapter is rather hot off the press, so if anyone sees any corrections, feel entirely free to point them out. The next update should be up in about a week. Enjoy!**

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Anna had woken curled under the covers the next evening, sweaty and sore and still in yesterday's clothes. She'd clutched her hand to her chest to check for her notepapers and whimpered at the pain, but sent off a swift prayer of thanks when she found them still folded inside her blouse. She'd hidden them at the back of her usual drawer, and after a brief wash at the ewer and a change of clothes (her blouse and skirt weren't fit to be worn, and the only other things she had were Marishka's shift and wrapper), she'd curled up on the window-seat to think.

The Count had given her a strapping, just as her Papa had when he'd found her poking around his things, but at least when Anna been caught by Boris she'd had only herself to blame. Dracula might not have forced her out of her door, but some of the fault for the incident was his, though for all Anna thought it through, she could not puzzle out why this was so. Instead, she squirreled the escapade into a corner of her mind, with the contents of her notepapers, to tell her Papa later.

Things in Dracula's lair had continued as normally as they could for the next day or so, but for the fact that Marishka did not come to Anna's chamber. The two eldest Brides generally shared her care between them, bringing her food, taking her to bathe and the like, but playful, if sometimes neglectful, Marishka was present at least twice a day. Anna preferred her company to the stately and somewhat standoffish Verona, who still made her nervous. She'd little time to think on this irregularity, however, for it was not long before the Count himself paid a visit to her room.

Anna had been sleeping, and when he appeared – literally – before her, she yelped and flattened against the pillows, much to her chagrin. A grin flashed across the Count's face.

"I am sorry, child, I did not think to fright you. It seemed high time that I enquired after your health myself." He settled in a chair by the bed, as polite as any caller at home, which made Anna utterly tongue-tied.

"Well," he prompted, "how are you?"

"I feel much better than I did," Anna murmured into her lap. "May I return home now, Sir?" And she had held her thumbs tightly for luck, hoping against hope that he would say yes. But when she found the courage to look up he was shaking his head, sadly.

"No, child, not just yet."

"But why, Sir?" her voice cracked a little. "I am almost well now; my headaches are gone and I can be up for hours and it does not tire me."

The vampire chuckled. "I have seen that for myself, Anna, but I'm afraid you do not understand." Anna had blushed redder. "Child, the journey would simply be too much for you."

Anna sighed miserably, tears pricking in her eyes. She thought she'd been quiet enough for the vampire not to hear, but was proved wrong when he raised an eyebrow. Her mistake made Anna feel worse; surely her Papa or Velkan would have known not to make a sound.

"Well? What is it?" the Count persisted. Anna made her mind up to be bold. The Count's strapping hadn't hurt as much as her Papa's, anyway.

"'You don't understand' – that's what Petronela always says," Anna muttered, squeezing her hands together nervously.

"Petronela is your nurse?" Anna nodded.

"And I hate her – she's fat and ugly and she's always making me sew."

Dracula chuckled. "She sounds a royal imbecile. Tell me, child, how old are you?"

Anna sat up, trying to make herself taller. If she proved herself he might take the time to explain.

"I am nearly ten, Sir."

The vampire laughed. "'Nearly ten', well I suppose that is a good enough age for people to start to 'take the time to explain' And besides, you have already proved yourself to be intelligent."

Anna's blood ran cold. "You – you can read my – "

"Mind?" The Count raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly, but I'm afraid that your thoughts ran very clearly, just then, enough for me to see them at any rate."

There was nothing Anna could do but hang her head, her ears burning, and tears pricking in her eyes. Where, by heaven, was she to go from here? Then, to her utmost surprise, a cool finger slid under her chin, and raised it.

"Now, don't take on so. It was not deliberate, and I did not see anything private, so there is no harm done."

The Count's eyes were kind, and Anna found herself nodding.

"Good. Do you still wish me to explain?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well then. You have seen the mountains from your window?" Your journey home lies through those, and because it is far too far for anyone to walk I must take you there myself. Unfortunately, the storms up here have just begun, and you would be soaked, and then the water would freeze on you. Cold like that is hard on the heart, little one, and yours has been under a lot of strain while you've been sick. Do you see now that we must wait for better conditions before you are to return?"

Finally, Anna had seen, and the Count nodded approvingly.

"Good, there is nothing to fret about now, is there?" Anna shook her head, though could not help but reflect on the long, lonely hours that stretched ahead of her. She had expected the Count to leave then, but when she looked up he was watching her, his head held to one side.

"Ah, I see." Anna's hand flew to her mouth.

"Sir – I'm sorry, I never meant –"

"It is all right. I am truly sorry that I cannot allow you to roam the house unchaperoned, but I shall have my Brides find things to keep you amused, and remain with you more often. Would that suit you?"

Anna couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you."

.:I:.

"Get up."

Anna muttered something sleepily and curled up tighter. There was a pause, and then a shock of cold water in her face, and she sat up with a cry. "Marish – oh!"

It was not Marishka, or even Verona, who was by the bed with her usual breakfast tray, but Aleera – Dracula's youngest Bride, with an empty glass in her hand and a frown etched across her white brow.

"Well, get up. I do not wish to be kept waiting." Anna scrambled up, bleary-eyed and confused, but before she'd had time to venture a question Dracula's Bride had her by the wrist and was tugging her out into the corridor.

"Aleera? What – "

"Silence." The Bride gave her a shove into the bathroom. "And understand one thing, if I am to have you bathed and fed at such a foolish time I do not wish to be kept waiting about it." Aleera slammed the bathroom door and turned the bath taps on. "Well, get undressed, don't just stand there like a doll."

Anna pulled her shift over her head as fast as she could while Aleera rummaged through the cupboards looking for towels and soap. Anna could have pointed out their location but did not dare to speak. The youngest Bride's reputation in Vaseria was almost as black as Dracula's, and Anna felt more frightened of her at this moment than of her master.

"What are you staring at? I've to change your sheets now and I haven't all night, so move!"

The tub was only half-full, but Anna got into it as she was bidden. Aleera tossed in some soap and a flannel, which floated on the surface like a flatfish. Anna stared at it, stupidly.

"Don't know how to wash yourself?" Aleera giggled. Anna scrabbled after the soap as fast as she could, but the bar was slippery and kept escaping her fingers. Aleera snorted. "Little fool."

The Bride departed then, slamming the bathroom door and locking it behind her, and Anna could hear her tottering footsteps enter her chamber. Left alone, she bathed as quickly as she was able. Once done, she stilled, as Velkan had taught her, to listen for the sound of Aleera's returning footsteps. The house was unearthly quiet, much as it had been the day she'd escaped her room. Anna drew her knees up to her chest, and frowned.

The sudden change in her care was strange. The marks on her notepaper showed her to have been here almost two weeks now, and there'd been little variation to her routine in that time. Why Aleera was suddenly involved was a mystery – since coming here, she had seen nothing of the Bride. It was plain that the vampiress wanted nothing to do with her, and she had hinted that she'd been ordered into the task. But who would order her? Dracula was likely, but was she also to do the bidding of the two elder Brides?

Minutes passed, and the water grew quite cold as Anna reflected. Her only glimpse of Aleera so far had been months ago in the servants' hall with Velkan. The Bride had flitted about, her whoops and laughs higher pitched and more chilling to Anna's blood than either of her sisters'. Anna could recall the sight of her, giggling like a child with the stable boy's corpse in her arms, blood dripping down her chin unnoticed. People spoke of her strangely in Vaseria. Men toasted her beauty as they feared her wrath, and Anna had often heard people speaking of her in hushed tones, though they'd always fallen silent when Anna or Velkan came too close. There was some secret, that was plain.

"Must be a strange experience for you, hmm?"

Anna started, water sloshing over the side of the bath. Aleera stood in the doorway, leaning lazily against the opposite wall as though she had been there for hours. The door was shut, and if had been unlocked, Anna had not heard it open.

"Alee – Madam?"

"Washing. I've heard you people only have one bath a year. Is that why you haven't started yet?"

Cutting remarks sprung to Anna's tongue, but she curbed them. Papa had told her that, though the Valerious had not been wandering gypsies for centuries, there were still some to whom the distinction made no difference.

"No – Madam, I am done bathing, now."

"Really?" Aleera giggled. "You seem to have forgotten about your hair."

Anna knew that she had coloured. "Ma'am – I'm - I don't know how to wash it. Marishka – Petronela – they always did it for me – "

For a moment the Bride did not react, and Anna dared to hope that she had got away with it. Then her eyes flashed purple, and Anna's heart dropped into her toes.

"A Valerious girl can't even wash her own hair? Lord, the money, the goods and supplies they order into that ridiculous manor, and the children they produce are idiots?"

Anna had shrunk back into the corner of the bath. "Ma'am – Marishka said it shouldn't need washing toda – " she suppressed a cry when Aleera was suddenly right beside her, her shapely jaw stretching translucent with fangs.

"Well I say it does!" she snarled, and, catching a hank of Anna's hair, tugged her to her feet and forced her head back. Water and soap suds streamed back into the bath as Anna cried out with pain.

"What on earth can our master want with you?" Aleera's voice suddenly held a plaintive, desperate note. "Your body is nothing worth looking at, bruised and undernourished, though we've been feeding you enough, haven't we?"

"Yes!" Anna whimpered, her scalp felt on fire.

"He has hardly been near us since your moronic escapade – a Valerious child cannot even tell when a trap's been set for her - and all he can do is talk your potential, when you're just a worthless, filthy gypsy!"

The bathroom door banged open, Anna was instantly released and she sank to her knees in the suds, unable to stop tears cascading down her cheeks. Verona stood in the doorway.

"What on earth is going on in here?"

Anna risked a glance up and found that Verona's appearance had changed in much the same manner as Aleera's, her eyes had lit the same blue her husband's would, and fangs brimmed from her jawline.

"Just entertaining our guest, as ordered, sister."

"Out," Verona snarled, and Aleera gave a mock-curtsey, her appearance slowly returning to normal.

"Of course, dear sister." The Bride was the picture of injured virtue as she left, but ruined the image by slamming the door behind her, so hard that the frame shook. Verona shook her head, her eyes and fangs fading.

"All right, Anna, sit down." Anna sat back in the bath slowly, all the time watching the Bride. Verona pulled up Marishka's usual stool and sat down.

"I'll wash your hair for you."

Anna had to steel herself not to shrink back from the Bride as Verona took the soap and began to lather it through Anna's hair. Her hands rubbed her scalp soothingly, and Anna began to relax despite herself.

"Will you tell me what happened, just now?"

"Aleera took me for my bath, she told me to wash my hair and when I said I didn't know how to - she dragged me up, and shouted at me."

Verona frowned. "What did she say?"

"She said – she called me a worthless, filthy gypsy."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Yes. She blamed me because the Count has not come near her since I got into the cellars, and all he did was talk about my – potential?" Verona's face had grown hard, and Anna bit her lip. "That's what she said, Ma'am."

The Bride sighed. "This is not good. Oh – do not worry," Anna must have looked surprised. "It is not your fault. I must get you back to your room and go and speak to the master."

The Bride was as good as her word, for she had Anna dried and dressed a few minutes later. She was marching Anna back to her chamber, and Anna was growing downcast, sure that would be the most explanation she would get for the evening's happenings, when the Bride spoke again.

"You've questions, I know, and I believe you're owed answers to them. There is nothing that I can tell you till I've seen the master, but I will ask, and it may be that he will allow it."

Anna looked up, startled. "Thank you."

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**Review, my loves?**

Thanks go to:

MaddAlice: No indeed...

draculafan: Thanks, really glad you're enjoying it! I love writing about young Anna.

EmmberlyneRiddle: Thank you!

Serendipity's tears: I know, I know, I'm trying to improve my track record in that respect.

shadowsteed: Thank you, I hope you like this one as much.

ForeverACharmedOne: Yep, there seems to be a bit of a fairytale thread running through this story - I think it's because Anna's so young in it. Hope this chapter puts more of a spin on Drac and Anna's relationship :P

Foepsie: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hullo, how are we all? I've popped back from my Master's for a long-overdue update. I'm really sorry I've been so unreliable and I really appreciate the continued interest.**

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Anna was sitting at the table, her fingers drumming on its surface and her legs twitching nervously. It had been hours since Verona had left, Anna knew because her hair had dried from damp rattails into untidy ringlets that she had not yet dared to comb out. There had been voices, sometimes raised, downstairs, and many comings and goings, but though Anna had crouched against the keyhole and strained to hear she'd not discerned a word. Damn.

She'd found a pack of playing cards on the table that had not been there before. Now they lay scattered in an untidy circle, for Anna had thought she'd try Clock, a game Petronela often played after Anna had gone to bed. But since her nurse had never cared to show her the rules Anna had not quite mastered the set-up. She would never have dared to ask Verona to teach her to play, and there had been no sign of Marishka for days. Anna wondered with a pang if she would ever come back.

"What is this mess?"

Anna jumped, her chair legs scraping against the floor as she turned. Verona was standing in the open doorway with a tray in her hands and a distasteful expression on her face, though Anna had not heard her come in.

"Madam! I'm sorry – I was trying to play Clock but I couldn't remember how - " Anna trailed off, for the bride was ignoring her, placing the tray down on the table and gathering up her scattered cards. Anna stared, unsure whether she had leave to sit, till Verona gestured impatiently.

"Eat, girl, we would not have you sick again."

Anna pulled up a chair and began to spoon her porridge down hastily, till Verona told her to be easy or she would make herself sick. The remainder of her meal was spent in silence, with Verona standing over her and Anna thoroughly conscious of the rough table manners Petronela was always berating her for.

When she was finished the bride put the tray aside and sat down opposite her. "The master has agreed that we may answer some of your questions."

"Oh, thank you madam, I – " Verona cut her off.

"Firstly, I offer my assurances that your encounter with Aleera will not be repeated."

"I – thank you." Anna was unsure how to respond, and this was the most appropriate thing she could think of.

"Good, I am glad that we all understand one another." Anna did not in the least, but thought it best to nod confidently.

"Now, the master says you've been asking about what we can see of your mind. He has decided that you may learn of our skills, but he has no time to teach you himself, so I shall do so in his stead."

Anna's brow furrowed. Here was something that had been playing on her mind since the Count's last visit to her, and she had kept her papers hidden and out of her thoughts as much as possible, worried about what any of the vampires could learn of her plans if she reflected on them for too long. Here was an opportunity.

"Please, Madam, I would like that."

"Very well. What is it they teach you in the village?"

"_Guard your thoughts, for they can read your heart._" Anna recited in a monotone. Verona raised an eyebrow. "Papa teaches it to all the children of Vaseria. It's why he never shares his plans with anyone, he says the less people know, the less any of you can see of his stratagems."

Verona snorted. "Your papa would do better to study the family archives more closely, then he might even learn the truth. 'Guard your thoughts' indeed, and how would one go about that, hmm?"

A pang went through Anna at the bride's casual incredulity. Boris had told her that that law had been handed down through the generations from Valerious the Elder, and kept it as rigidly as a monk to holy vows. She'd never known her papa be wrong. But she'd no answer to give Verona, and shrugged, nibbling her lip. The bride smirked.

"Come, we'll have a lesson, and perhaps you can instruct your papa better when you return."

Anna's heart swelled despite her chagrin at Verona's reference to home, but also to her promise of telling her something she had always wanted to know the truth of. There was a layer of shame in Anna at that, though she quelled it as best she could.

"Please, Madam."

"Well. Where to begin? Ah, of course." The bride angled her chair subtly so she stared Anna straight in the face. Anna cringed, and Verona chuckled.

"I was about to say that eye-contact is the first essential for a true reading, but only the master in this house is capable of that, and I doubt that he will bother."

"Madam? I thought - "

"If you would desist with your interruptions, child, I might have a chance to explain."

Anna blushed and lowered her head.

"That's better. Now, a mortal mind if no book to be picked up and read at will. Thoughts may not be extracted from the surface of a mind, and one must press a mortal deeply to reach them."

Anna was hard put not to show her relief. Her secret may be safe after all.

"That isn't all though, is it, Madam? All vampires have some skill."

"Of course not. And as you are so curious, it is time for you to experience it." A jolt went though Anna's belly.

"Is there any way I can stop you?"

"No. But you have my word that your secrets will remain undisturbed, whatever they may be." Verona's smirk at the idea of a child like her having secrets was hard to bear, but it was too late for reflection.

"Try to relax and clear your mind– you will feel the sensations better. It is easier to do this undetected when a mind is racing."

Anna tried to do as the bride had said. It was more difficult than she had thought; anticipation was tying a nervous knot in her stomach and she could feel her heart beat faster – something Verona would certainly be able to sense. She breathed deeply to try to slow it. Pressure was building at a spot between her eyes, and she lifted her hand to rub at it irritably, but paused when her hand was half-way to her face. The sensation seemed to be probing her, brushing against her thoughts with a touch that was soft as silk. Anna tried tentatively to push it away and it gave; the pressure easing away, though Anna had an inclination that it had not been her own will that had caused the sensation to withdraw.

"Well done," Verona said, "you recognised it."

"What did you understand from that – look -…?"

"Little but your state of mind – you were expectant and somewhat afraid."

"Oh."

"The mortal mind is a complex thing, and takes a lot of practice to understand. All vampires can read their subject's emotions, but years are required to hone that skill and discern something more. Most of our kind find the basics to be all that is required. Aleera remains at that stage, Marishka, a little better, but I doubt much more."

"You can do more than that though? When I first came here you spoke to me, without words."

"Of course, but I am older than my sisters by several centuries. That, by the way, is merely a sending of thoughts and not a difficult trick. Reading them is the hard part."

"And can you do that?"

The bride looked somewhat askance. "The master has taught me some skill over the years, but I see little compared to him. If I had pressed you just now I might have been able to see what you were thinking on the surface, but that would have been difficult and would have hurt you a little. The master may see your surface thought with little effort, as you saw for yourself, but he is centuries older than I."

Not dreadful news, though it was clear that she could have to watch her thoughts around the Count in future. Still, with any luck she might not have to see much of him. Verona's words were curious, that was for sure.

"Can you show me?"

"Show you?" Verona frowned

"What happens if you press me?"

Verona stared at her a moment then tossed her head and laughed. Anna blushed and stammered an apology but the bride waved her words away. "No need, child, I am just surprised that a Valerious would dare to ask for such a thing. If it were your father sitting here and not you he would not care for the prospect."

"I want to know."

"And I'm glad, it shows more spirit than I have seen in your family for generations." Anna's heart swelled. "Come then. You know this will be painful for you? Because you must bear it without struggling, or there could be ill effects to your mind."

"I can bear it."

Verona nodded approvingly.

"Good girl." She reached across the table and took Anna's hands in hers. Anna stared down at the bride's fingers. The bride wore gold rings with cut and polished green gems set into them. Anna had heard of emeralds, the costly green stones that Cortéz had brought from the New World, but had never seen one before.

"Think of a number between one and a hundred."

Forty-one, her papa's age, sprung to Anna's mind.

"I have one."

"Good. Now concentrate on it with all your power, and hold completely still."

Verona caught her gaze and held it, and Anna swallowed, hard, and concentrated.

_Forty-one, forty-one, forty-one, forty-one..._

The bride's eyes slipped from black to as blue as a summer sky. Anna felt the pressure on her forehead again.

_Forty-one, forty-one, forty one_...

The pressure was building to a throbbing pain between her temples, but she remained as still as she could, staring into Verona's eyes. There was suddenly some colour on the bride's face, a surprising sight. The pain was getting worse.

_Forty-one, forty-one, forty-one, forty-one..._

There was sweat pooling on Verona's face, but Anna could not let herself dwell on it. Then the bride grasped her face with a snarl, the green – emerald? – rings cool on Anna's face, as the pain sheared between her temples worse than in her fever.

_"Forty-one?" _The bride's voice in her head.

"_Yes!"_

The bride released her, and Anna, careless of who sat across from her, dropped her head to the cool polished surface of the table, and took deep breaths. The pain began to fade, but slowly. A glass of water was suddenly pressed into her hand, and Anna looked up to find the bride was standing over her.

"Drink, it will help."

Anna did as she was bidden, and the ache soon faded.

"Thank you."

"A pleasure, child, I rarely have an opportunity to practice. And yes, my rings are emeralds. Pretty things, aren't they?"

Anna giggled nervously and was rewarded with the first smile from Verona that she had ever seen.

"Aleera couldn't have seen that then?"

"No, she would have tried but her probing would probably have met with little success and damaged your mind."

"And – the Count?"

"Ah – well he could have seen much more than my brief glimpse, and probably brought less pain with it."

"Oh. I see."

There was a long pause, and then the bride looked Anna up and down with sudden distaste, and barked for her to fetch her comb. Anna blushed, recalling the state her hair was in, and brought it from the dresser. She then spent an uncomfortable five minutes while Verona tugged the metal teeth through her hair with as little consideration as Petronela. When she was done though and Anna glanced in the mirror she found her hair lay smooth and neat in a way that her nurse had never managed before. The bride looked her over again and nodded.

"Better. Now that is enough of lessons for tonight, and I must leave you. Although there may be time for just one more."

"Oh?"

"Clock."

.:I:.

"Where is Aleera?"

Marishka spoke the moment the moment the door to Anna's chamber was fully closed. She was sitting on the passage floor with her back to the wall and her feet tucked under her, for a moment every bit the gauche child she had been as a mortal. Then she rose, lithe in the tulle trousers only she of the three of us can carry off, and the girl was gone.

I had turned and set off for our sitting room upstairs, but Marishka followed, striking sparks on the flags with her high-heeled shoes.

"Oh, did you hear the tale from our little princess, or have you been listening behind doors again?" I knew very well that Marishka had not been near our gypsy princess for days, and I considered her negligence partly to blame for recent happenings. If she had paid closer attention Aleera might never have taken it into her head to try her hand at caring for Anna.

"I heard the ruckus. Aleera's voice tends to carry." My sister grinned tentatively: it is a private joke between us, but I did not smile.

"The child needed you. Why did you not come?"

"I did not think it necessary, you seemed to have the situation well enough in hand," she said, shrugging. Any mortal would have thought her indifferent, but decades in her company taught one better.

We came to the main stairs and I began to climb, but Marishka paused a moment before stepping up beside me.

"I heard Aleera leave for the village just after you came down here," she said, keeping her tone casual. "I doubt she'll be back until late."

"The master will wait for her. He always does."

My sister avoided my eyes. Aleera always slipped off like a recalcitrant child when she angered my master, clinging to the absurd hope that he would forget her wrongs while she was gone. He never did, and Marishka, who had received a few punishments of humiliation from him before, would go somewhere far from his study when Aleera returned. I could stand to listen though, for I had never given him cause to be so wrathful with me.

We came to our chambers in the upper parts of the house, where the passages were wood-panelled and the fires were lit.

"The Master also mentioned that he would like you to care for the child again_."_ The master had in fact said nothing of the kind, but I doubted my sister would obey my own orders, and she was far too young to detect the lie on my lips.

I took a few steps before I realised that Marishka was no longer beside me, and I glanced back to find that she had paused, and her face was downcast, though she schooled her features into her usual coquette's smile when she saw me look back.

"Marishka? What is this?"

"Would you not be a better choice to care for her? Surely the master would not mind as long as one of us does it."

Ordinarily I would have dismissed her behaviour as a childish sulk, but this did not seem like one of her occasional tantrums. I gestured my sister into the sitting room, where I disdained my usual place and sat beside her near the hearth.

"You've no choice, sister. Unless you wish to disobey the master's orders."

"Of course not."

"Then do as he requests. Unless you would rather her left to Aleera's mercies?"

"You know as well as I that Aleera won't be allowed near her again, the master will see to that. But you've no cause to harm her," she was beginning to prattle, "and anyway, I'm sure you learned to care for a child when you were married and living in eager expectation – "

I answered with a snarl, ready for harsh words and a long quarrel, but to my utmost surprise Marishka drew back and bit her lip.

"I am sorry, sister, I should not have said that."

I glanced at my sister from under my eyelashes. This was odd. Marishka was certainly not above spite, and it was very rare that she backed down after she'd spoken so.

"Come, Marishka, there is no need for this. I thought you had grown fond of the girl." My heart sank when Marishka looked up with a yellow gleam in her eyes.

"Fond of her? Perhaps. But what of you, Madam? I think your dislike of the younger generation has been fading of late, wouldn't you agree?"

I finally saw what Marishka's little withdrawal from her duties had truly been about. She'd probably put Aleera up to trying her hand at looking after Anna, knowing it would end in disaster and I would be forced to step in to nurse the child – something I had longed for all my centuries and never thought I would do . And I had stepped into her trap like a fool and let the princess worm her way into my affections, and what was more Marishka knew it. Fury boiled in my belly for the first time in years. My fledgling sister needed a lesson in respecting her elder.

I caught my sister and pinned her against the wall by the throat, and though she fought me tooth and nail she could not remove me. Then I taught her the lesson with a sending, a well-crafted scene I played out in her thoughts while she struggled in my grip.

_My master and I in his chamber, naked and red-eyed with lust, myself restraining a writhing and terrified Anna on his bed while he tore into her throat with his fangs. I held my sister still, forcing her to watch the master and I consummate our lust as Anna lay dying, forgotten on the Turkish carpet in a pool of her own blood, sobbing with pain and confusion. _

Even my sister had done just so with a mortal before. For we vampires lust and bloodlust are one and the same.

I left Marishka sobbing red tears in her seat by the hearth, for she knew that if ordered I would do what I had shown without question, just as we both now knew that she would not. I headed up to my master's study to make my report on Anna's lesson, for he was very interested in her reactions to our abilities.

* * *

**Reviews, my lovelies?**

Many, many thanks to:

: I'm so pleased you like it, I'm trying to make Anna a little more independent as she gets used to her surroundings.

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KatMika: Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! I'm so sorry about the lateness of the update, I've been really busy lately.

Saissister: Thanks!

pretty-little-liar-girl70: Thank you!

Sephira1: Thank you, here's your continuation, and your English seems great to me.

EmmberlyneRiddle: Ooo, hope the chapter helps with your guessing!

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Serendipity's tears: Curiosity killed the cat but the update brought him back? Or something... Anyway, update for you!

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If I've missed anyone out I'm really sorry, my internet is really patchy today and isn't showing me everyone's reviews.


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